


yours is the light

by almosthello, happinesssdeceit (crescenttwins)



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Art, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25844452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almosthello/pseuds/almosthello, https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescenttwins/pseuds/happinesssdeceit
Summary: excerpts of a journey. created for sormikweek2020.
Relationships: Mikleo/Sorey (Tales of Zestiria)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	yours is the light

**Author's Note:**

> A collaboration for [Sormik Week 2020](https://sormikweek.tumblr.com/). Art by almosthello and vignettes by happinesssdeceit! <3

When we were young and our world was still very small, it was easy to link hands and imagine great adventures. It was easy to promise to journey together when we were a bit bigger, to color our future with the text of the Celestial Records.

Growing older was not what we expected: it came upon us too quickly once we left our small village, accelerated by politics and hurts that we had never known. The world bloomed before us: both the ruins of old and the cities of the living. Our promise was a small thing next to your new duty; it felt wrong to hold so tightly onto you when others needed you, too.

It was frighteningly easy to learn that the world was broken: knowledge and adventure was shadowed with pain; exhaustion lingered even with good company and food. Our shared dream was like a firefly, flickers of joy in the sea of darkness we battled. A bond, not quite a secret, just between us: enough to make it easy to stay, to keep going.

Adventure was too small a word to encompass everything we gained, everything we lost. And as your shoulders grew broader under the weight you carried, the distance between us felt like it was growing, too. It would have been easier to stop; it would have been easier to let others fester in the darkness of their own making. But you were never the sort of person to give up-- not on people, not on adventures, not on promises made as children. And in the end (you left ~~me~~ ), your adventures were too short to be considered a lifetime: barely enough to fill half a record of our own. 

**Author's Note:**

>   
> “Silently if, out of not knowable  
> night’s utmost nothing, wanders a little guess  
> (only which is this world) more of my life does  
> not leap than with the mystery your smile
> 
> sings or if (spiraling as luminous  
> they climb oblivion) voices who are dreams,  
> less into heaven certainly earth swims  
> than each my deeper death becomes your kiss
> 
> losing through you what seemed myself, I find  
> selves unimaginably mine; beyond  
> sorrow’s own joys and hoping’s very fears
> 
> yours is the light by which my spirit’s born:  
> yours is the darkness of my soul’s return  
> –you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars”
> 
> E. E. Cummings


End file.
